


A Date For the Summer

by LaFoiAveugle



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaFoiAveugle/pseuds/LaFoiAveugle
Summary: When Claire Beauchamp receives an invitation to her ex-fiance's wedding, she decides to take bring a (fake) boyfriend in order to ward off her ex-fiance's twin brother.When Jamie Fraser realizes his ex-girlfriend is getting married and the girl who crushed hard on him in high school isthe maid of honor, he quickly enlists the help of his roommates to find a believable date in order to keep the drama down.Characters, relationships, and summary to be updated as the story is released!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to Diana Gabaldon, the ridiculous escapades belong to me!  
> I am aiming to update once a week, and alternating chapters between Claire and Jamie's view points. Please let me know what you think!

### Chapter 1

#### Claire

There are fewer things I love more about my job than collapsing into my bed exhausted from a hard day’s worth of work. My residency at the Massachusetts General Hospital provided me with that satisfaction easily; I was also provided with a way to escape from the reality of my non-existent social life in exchange for helping people in need. Still, tonight I was feeling restless and lonely, despite having been surrounded by other residents all day. And grimy. And I needed a hair cut, I thought absently as I pushed my messy curls out of my face and into a mostly broken clip. It was time to admit that I was working too many days in a row and that it was starting to get to me. 

I decided to forgo checking the mail and head straight to bed. I shared a flat just off Harvard’s campus, a small two-bedroom that I only saw for a few minutes before collapsing into a coma, most of the time. I could feel the pull of a hot shower as I opened the door to my flat, unconsciously calculating how many hours I had been up. I had settled on twenty-six when I realized I wasn’t alone in the kitchen. Geillis Duncan, my flatmate and one of my best friends, was standing over the sink eating from a bowl of strawberries while sorting through a large stack of our mail. Mail I had definitely ignored for far too long, I realized guiltily. She looked up and gave me a wild smile, taking in my disheveled scrubs and knotted hair. “Good evening, deary,” she greeted me in her light yet sultry voice. 

I smiled back as she tossed her shiny long red hair over her shoulder, showing off her sharp cheeks and pale skin. “Hello, Gilly,” I responded. Unlike me, she looked flawless in a pinstripe business suit, which apparently included a vest, and matching heels. I rarely saw my flatmate these days, between my hours and her jobs, something that pained me a bit of course, but did she really have to show me up like this? Not that she dressed this way for my irritation, but rather she felt that male students were easier to take down if they thought she was some bimbo who got by on just her looks. I didn’t understand how any man could look into her green eyes and not see the constant calculating. 

We had met several years ago in undergrad - we had been paired up as roommates and campus buddies due to both of us being international students that had started at Harvard at the same time. It wasn’t long before she became one of my closest friends, though I was the first to admit that even years later, I didn’t entirely trust her.

“How was work?” she asked in a strangely perky voice. She moved my stack of mail towards the end of the counter and pulled hers closer to her, placing two large envelopes at the bottom of her stack. 

I put my jacket and purse on the wall hooks, then walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and offered it to Geillis before pulling out one for me as well. “Work was…..exhausting,” I replied, leaning against the fridge. “But good. I know I say this every new rotation, but Jesus H.R. Christ I am glad to be off the ER.” I had moved on to pediatrics neonatal, which I honestly didn’t care for either, but it was almost done and was my last rotation for this round. I was going to have to declare a specialty soon too and decide if I was going to find a fellowship. I took a swig from the bottle and asked, “How was teaching today?”

Geillis smiled, eating another strawberry. She was a political science major, working on her doctorate while TA’ing for the hardest professor in the department, or so she said. She also had a side job that wasn’t quite legal, but I didn’t press for details. She didn’t bring drugs into our apartment, I had never had to get her out of jail, and so I didn’t need any further details. Plus I knew it was just a means to an end; her true passion was political history and law. She wanted to change the world. 

“Undergrads are obnoxious, and now that midterms are coming up they’re all sweet talking me up.” She giggled a little, a sound I knew as her taking way too much enjoyment in watching her students squirm. She opened a few envelops, separating her mail into further stacks. 

“What are those?” I asked, gesturing to the envelops she tried to hide. 

She grabbed them and then hesitating before looking back up at me. “I think they’re something you aren’t going to like,” she replied honestly, before handing one over.  
I held the thick envelope, my name “Claire Beauchamp” printed in fancy script on the front. The return address didn’t look familiar, but I opened it anyways. I don’t know if it was the exhaustion of the long day, but it took me far too long to process what I was looking at. An ivory and lace invitation sat in my hands and read: 

> __
> 
> Mr. And Mrs. Matthew Travers  
>  Request the pleasure of your company  
>  At the marriage of their daughter  
>  Sandra Travers to Franklin Randall  
>  Son of Mr. And Mrs. Jonathan Randall  
>  At Northside Farm, Horsley  
>  On Seventeenth, June, 2019

__  


My heart felt like it was sinking and speeding up at the same time. My scrubs felt too hot and itchy against my skin. I knew this day would come eventually - how often did I stare at the pictures of Frank and Sandy on Facebook and Instagram and feel the tiniest bit of jealousy, even though I had ended it with Frank years ago?

I turned it over in my hand, as if the back would hold some deceptively brilliant idea of what to do. In my panic haze, I noticed the envelope and RSVP were addressed directly to me - not to Geillis and me. I pointed this out to her, my brain unable to grasp much else. 

“Oh, well….yes,” she said, holding out a second heavy ivory envelope addressed to her specifically. “I got a plus one as well.”  
The double invitations felt like a weird insult. By sending us both an invitation with plus ones, I couldn’t just bring Gilly as my “date.” I also knew Frank well enough to know it wasn’t an intentional insult, but most likely the opposite. He felt like he was doing me a favor and extending yet another olive branch in our strained friendship. 

“I can’t not go to this, can I, Gilly?” I asked. She lifted an eyebrow as she ate yet another strawberry, but didn’t respond immediately. 

“You don’t owe Frank much,” she said slowly, “but proper etiquette dictates that you should consider going to the wedding of the man whose heart you broke, if he so kindly requests.” 

I groaned loudly in response. She had a point - I valued the friendship Frank and I had forged after our messy breakup way too much to immediately decline without thinking about it. “Do you want to go?” She and Frank had not been close friends, but rather cordial for my benefit. Frank really was being sweet by inviting her for my comfort. Or for the gift.

Geillis shrugged. I couldn’t read the expression on her face, though it was clearly conflicted. After a few moments of thought, she put down her bottle of water and leaned passed me, opening the cabinet door next to my head. “We are going to need whiskey to discuss this.” She smiled, pouring doubles into tumblers. She handed me a glass, then directed me toward our living room while carrying the bottle.

I kicked off my shoes as I flopped into my favorite chair, my feet swing off the arm like I was a child. I took a large swig of the whiskey, waiting for Geillis to continue. 

Instead, she watched me in silence for a few minutes, as if waiting to see how I would react. The whiskey warmed my chest, releasing some of the tension in my body. I let my hair down, my curls taking a life of their own. Married. My Frank was getting married. And a small part of me I wasn’t ready to deal with was crushed that it wasn’t to me. 

“The wedding is in north England, aye?” I nodded in response. Geillis sipped her whiskey, then said, “Frank is your ex, which is a good excuse not to go, or,” she crossed her legs and leaned back, “this wedding is a good reason for both of us to go home for a long vacation.” I scoffed, shaking my head, but she continued before I could respond. “We go to this wedding, dance and drink the night away, we run around England and Scotland and maybe France, we have a few summer flings, and we come back ready to get back to business. The wedding is at end of term for me; you will be on break applying for fellowships. We could easily sublease the apartment to summer students or put it on airbnb and go visit our families and the homeland for a few weeks.” 

She was right, I realized. And I could see in her eyes that she was trying to hide how much she wanted this, in case I really didn’t want to go to the wedding. I felt a surge of appreciation at her loyalty despite her obvious homesickness. But she was right - the wedding was a perfect excuse to also spend time with Uncle Lamb, my surrogate father. It was also an opportunity to visit a few hospitals and set up interviews for potential fellowships. I missed England, just as much as I knew she missed Scotland. 

“Okay,” I conceded, draining my glass. “I’ll think it over. And I’ll give Uncle Lamb a call to see if he minds having two guests in his flat for the summer.”  
“You don’t have to bring a date you know,” Geillis said, not looking at me. “That just means we can find some fun lads there. Maybe a couple of groomsmen.”  
I raised an eyebrow at that and refilled my glass, getting up off the chair. “That is for tomorrow’s worry. Right now I have a date with a handsome pillow.”


	2. Chapter 2

### Chapter 2

#### Jamie

I ran to the small airplane as its propellers slowed down to a stop. I clapped the lad on his back as he got out of the plan, a wide grin on on both of our faces.

“See, not as hard as you thought it would be!” I laughed. Alec gave me an awkward side hug before pumping his fist in the air. 

“It was AWESOME!” He did a happy dance before coming back up to me. “I was so nervous at first, but I remembered everythin’ you said to keep steady. I canna wait to go back up!” I laughed again. Even though I was generally an easy going guy, his joy was infectious. 

“Okay, calm down for a second, lad. What did I teach you post flight?”

“That while the CAA doesn’t have a required post-flight checklist, Jamie does and who do you want to piss aff more?” Alec recited the words I had taught him for the last twenty or so hours of flight as he began to block the airplane wheel. 

I couldn’t stop grinning at my student. I hadn’t been teaching long, but every time one of my kids got to their solo stage or actual license, I felt like weirdly like a proud father.

After I helped Alec check the oil and put the airplane back in the hangar, I finished up some paper work on Alec and checked my schedule for tomorrow’s students. It was supposed to be typical Scottish deary day, and I needed to be sure my pilots were trained enough to deal with it. I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a text from one of my roommates and oldest friends Ian Murray. I opened it, figuring he was checking when I got off work. Since I came back to Scotland eight months ago, we had regularly gotten dinner or drinks. Right about his text, I responded telling him I would meet him in about an hour at our usual pub. 

I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling it standing up with my curls sticking out everywhere. It was starting to curl around my ears, and I vaguely contemplated a hair cut. However, it felt good to not have my hair buzzed anymore, so I kept putting it off. Distracted, I looked around the office for my keys for my bike so I could head over to the pub. No use starting a trip down memory lane. 

***

I took the scenic ride to the pub as we didn’t get a ton of days with this nice of weather. I had bought the bike shortly after my return home, an ill advised purchase if you asked my older sister, Jenny. Given how frequently I rode in the rain, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Not that I would tell her. 

I had beat Ian and our other roommate John to the pub, unsurprisingly. Ian worked as an irrigation engineer and frequently had meetings outside and up in the Highlands. John Grey, my other best friend and roommate, worked in diplomatic relationships. He basically was always working and always late for social gatherings. I grabbed our usual table in the corner, setting down my helmet and leather jacket. 

While waiting for them, I headed over to the bar to buy the first round of drinks. I gave the usual waitress, Catriona, a smile and a wink as I pulled out my wallet. “How’s it going, Cat?” 

She pulled out three mugs and began pouring our usuals. “Not too bad yit. Where are th’ boys?” 

“Should be any minute.” I pulled out a few pounds and put them on the bar, tipping generously. Catriona put the mugs in front of me, leaning on the bar to give me a tempting view. She had become bolder in her flirting over the past view visits, and I couldn’t deny I was tempted. 

“I get off at 10,” she said with a wink, picking up the money. I smiled, grabbing the mugs. Catriona would be fun, and I really liked the idea of getting in some fun soon. I had been living like a monk since I got back to Scotland. It was starting to get old.

Maybe I would actually take her up on the offer tonight. 

I was still smiling at the possibility as I placed the beers in front of Ian and John. They had clearly just arrived as they were shedding off their winter layers. I knew then that while the thought of hooking up with the bartender seemed tempting, I was more likely close the night and go home with these two. 

“Hey!” I laughed as Ian shook water out of his hair. “Watch th’ beers.” John clasped my shoulder in a greeting before taking one of the mugs from me. 

“Cheers, mate,” he said before taking a swig. “How did your young pilot’s solo flight go?” 

“Yeah it was a tidy flight, well done. He’s got a few months before he can apply for his license, but I think his pilot dreams are solidly on there way. What about ye two? Work going well?”

“Aye. I actually ran by yer uncle’s farm today. Was in the area. Collum sends his regards,” Ian said.

“Oh yeah? How’s the farm lookin’?” My uncles had two of the largest farms in the Highlands, which caused some less than friendly competitions. But they both called upon Ian when they needed help, so JEnny and I Stayed out of it.

“Not bad. They’re considerin’ switchin’ out the backfield for a new crop. Collum is offerin’ me a contract later this year actually.” 

“That’s amazing news!” John exclaimed, clinking his mug against Ian’s. 

“Yeah, gettin’ enough contracts that you’re considering making an honest woman out of my sister?” I teased. Ian and my sister Jenny had been dating officially for the better part of the last decade, though we could all agree it had been going on probably our whole lives. And while he did technically live with John and me, he and Jenny had started looking for a place of their own. 

My sister was nothing short of impressive. She had started an online bakery that had been successful enough to open up a small shop. She worked insane hours and currently lived in an apartment above the shop. When I wasn’t having dinner with my roommates, I was having dinner with her as often as possible. 

“Er, well, speaking of…” John started, looking at Ian, trailing off. Ian shook his head slightly and glanced at me.

“You didn’ propose and not tell me did you?”

“Good lord no,” Ian laughed nervously. “I dun have a death wish.”  
“You both look like someone’s tryin’ to kill us and yer too scared to tell me.” I took a long swig from my glass. “Spill it.” 

Ian and John exchanged a long look before John pulled an envelope out of his pocket. A thick, ornate envelope with my name and our address in calligraphy. 

“Who’s getting married?” I asked, recognizing the telltale signs of a wedding invitation. My mother’s side had a few too many cousins - weddings were a regular occurrence. I slid open the envelope and pulled out the blue tinted vintage wedding invitations and read over it quickly. “Oh - Annalise is finally marrying Charles? This is great news!” I was truly excited for her, even if she was marrying the guy she left me for. John looked instantly relieved, but Ian shifted, still uncomfortable. 

“Did you boys not get an invite?” I was still confused at their discomfort. Annalise had practically grown up with Ian, Jenny, and me, and she had taken to John quicker than I had in college. She also still remained the sweetest and most kind hearted person I had ever known. Never had raised her voice at anyone, even at her brothers. 

“We are also invited,” Ian confirmed and drained his beer. “It is that….I was talking to Jenny this afternoon. Anna asker her to be her maid of honor.” An obvious choice, of course. Jenny and Annalise had been best friends since Anna’s family had moved from France when we were eight. “But she also asked Laoghaire to be a bridesmaid.” 

I swore under my breath. No wonder Ian was hesitant to tell me about this. Laoghire was one of the reasons Annalise and I had broken up. She was bad news then, and I did not want to find out how much worse she had gotten since. 

“I have an idea,” John piped in. “Look, the wedding is soon. I assume that you have not brought up any lady friends because you have suddenly gained an ounce of modesty?”

“No, I’m not datin’ anyone,” I confirmed, rolling my eyes. “What of it?”

John pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “There is this new app out that allows you essentially trade faux relationship experiences. It is geared towards ‘millennials’ who are trying to get their parents off their backs, or need a partner for a business dinner or something. It is new and still kind of in beta testing mode, and is supposed to be platonic. But it could be a way for you to bring a date to Annalise’s wedding without having to risk mixed signals if you start dating someone?” John showed me the app’s “About me” page, essentially showing me the same thing he had explained. 

“I dun know about this,” I said hesitantly. “It still seems risky.” 

“No no, they run background checks on everyone that signs up. Plus I would be willing to keep an eye on your account and run additional background checks if you would like.” He went to take another drink from his now empty glass. “I have used the service in the past. For when I needed a plus one last minute, and the co-workers I was meeting up with were not very….progressive.” 

I nodded understanding. “Aye. If you’ll help me vet them, I am willin’ to give this a try. But If it gets too weird, we close the account.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little later than I expected it to be - I had a long debate about how to write the Scottish accent and how much slang. (Obviously, I am not Scottish and the last thing I would want to do is insult anyone.) 
> 
> Next chapter will be a Claire chapter! I don't think each chapter will alternate, but we will see where the wind takes us. I hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter! I was so torn on how to shorten it....so instead I just made it two chapters! Thus, Chapter 4 shall drop tomorrow, another one from Claire's POV. Let me know what you think!

### Chapter 3

#### Claire

 

Even on my days off, I set an alarm on my phone. I hate myself even more on days when I have stayed up late chatting with Geillis and drinking whiskey, like I did last night. The whiskey had caused some seriously weird dreams about Frank. But while part of me would love nothing more than to steel until noon, these were the days I had to tackle the important and mundane things such as laundry and bills and my half of the chores.

God bless Geillis, I thought while stretching. She never complains on the weeks she had to pick up my slack.

I did some mental math as I yawned, rolling out of bed. I wasn’t too sure where my uncle was these days, but it was early enough here that I shouldn’t be risking waking him up. I was fairly certain he was on “vacation” in Greece, if not Croatia. Still, a text message was a safer bet. I reached for my phone and typed out a quick message as I walked to the kitchen.

UP FOR A VIDEO CHAT LATER? X

I sat my phone on the counter and filled up the kettle, then grabbed some eggs and lox. My phone buzzed as I finished up scrambling the eggs. I pushed the screen with my elbow to see my uncle’s response.

SURE LOVE. I’LL RING YOU AT 3 PM YOUR TIME.

SOUNDS PERFECT. GOT SOME EXCITING NEWS! X

I smiled as I put my phone down, digging back into my eggs and toast. I hadn’t seen my uncle in nearly a year, when he last swung through the United States. He didn’t care for Boston, but did love the rest of the Northeast. We spent some time in Maine on the coast in a peaceful cottage while I studied for some finales and he worked on his latest book.

My uncle had, more or less, been my father figure since I was 6. During the summer, my parents died in a car crash while on holiday in Ireland without me. They had taken a late honeymoon — conceiving a child out of wedlock and a shotgun marriage would do that to you. Still, from what everyone told me, they were ridiculously, sickeningly in love, and had loved me too. Which is why they waited until I was 6 before taking their honeymoon…they finally felt like they could leave me without worry.

Even after twenty some odd years, I was still partially bitter that they had gone on vacation without me, even while I logically knew it could have meant my own early death. They had left me at my Uncle Lamb’s house, the only sibling of either of my parents. He has always been an eternal bachelor. Part of me believe it was because of his career, and part of me believed he didn’t want to complicate my life any further. Either way, he had given me the best childhood I could have. Until 5 years ago he had spent his life traveling as an archaeologist, working on proving a correlation between the similarities of two ancient cultures on two very different continents. I had traveled with him, technically home schooled through an online program that was exhaustively easy. I learned more out on the digs and talking to the people my uncle worked with more than I ever had online.

And yet, I had craved stability. I had wanted to get a proper college degree. And I was intrigued by American culture as it was one I had never experienced. At least, that’s what I pretend.

Five years ago my uncle decided to technically retire and write Indiana Jones-like novels. They’re bestselling novels despite the heavy lean on the archaeology terminology. I have all of them, in various languages even. I can’t help but be his biggest fan.

Strangely enough, after a lifetime of traveling for work and passion, he cannot sit at home to write a novel. He must travel to a new country as he works on each book. I think it’s just an excuse for him to not sit at home, but whatever it is it works for him.

I smile briefly at some fading memory as I put my plate in the dishwasher and pull my hair up, making a mental checklist in my head of what I needed to get done today. Laundry, some bills to pay, lunch with my best friend Joe, grocery run. Talk to Uncle Lamb. Clean the kitchen. Sleep as much as possible. I had a nagging feeling I was missing something, but after a few minutes of pacing and wiping down the counter, I couldn’t figure out what it was. Nothing important, I guess.

After loading up our dishwasher and running a few loads through the washer and dryer, I showered and got dressed for lunch with Joe. We have had a standing lunch date for years now, since we met in undergrad and had been paired up as biology lab partners. Occasionally his now wife Gail would join us, when she wasn’t busy with her law practice. Or incredibly pregnant, as she currently was.

As the weather was getting warmer, I decided to walk over to our regular spot, a decent Korean place. Which is also next door to a great pizza place, in case one of us wasn’t feeling like some kimchi. There is also a wonderful bench that gets just enough sunlight that I’ve studied many days on.

As it was my day off, and I had promised Joe that I would not study or do anything intelligent on my days off (especially where he could see me) I pulled out a worn out copy of an abridged _Count of Monte Cristo_. It has been my favorite book since I was a kid, and while I did prefer it in unabridged, it wasn’t worth carrying around that big of a book. Joe tapped me on my warmed shoulder just as I was getting lost in prison with Edmund. “Hey!” I stood up and hugged Joe.

“Good afternoon, L.J.!” Joe laughed as he hugged me back. “It is good to see you out of scrubs.”

“You as well! Especially the bloody ones from yesterday. I don’t think I’ll be getting that image out of my mind anytime soon. Unless you want to pretend it was pizza sauce?” I pointed to the pizza shop for emphasis. He nodded and gestured for me to lead. “How is your ER rotation going?”

“It’s going well. I think I still want to stick with surgery, but I am actually loving the energy in the ER. Minus the number of kids who are shoving things up their nose.” We both waved at the owner as we took our favorite booth. Joe paused midway sitting down. “My… kid is going to stick something up his nose for every time I laugh at a kid right now, isn’t he?”

I laughed at that. I had seen my fair share of nose marbles and beans. “Remind me not to have children if that’s the karma pay out?”

We looked over the menu before settling on our normal meals - veggie lasagna for Joe, a small pepperoni and mushroom pizza for me. The waitress took our menus as I fidgeted with my watch band. Joe noticed and nodded at my arm. “What’s up?”

“Any chance Gail can do without you for a week or so next month whilst you accompany me to a wedding?” I flashed a charming smile, hoping that he could tell I was teasing.

“Who’s getting married?” Joe munched on some bread.

“Frank,” I sighed. Joe’s eyes got wider. “He and Sandy are tying the knot.”

“Wow. I guess that is a long time coming. And he invited you?”

I nodded, picking up a piece of my own bread. “He invited Geillis too, so I can’t bring her as my plus one. Want to go hang out in London with us slightly buzzed for days on end to get through this while your wife is home with your first child, the heir to your family fortune and all things?”

“Not even a little bit,” Joe laughed. “You forget, I know Frank. And his asshole of a twin brother, Jack. After what went down between the two of us, I don’t think Frank would want my drama at his wedding.”

I tried to smile at that, but he wasn’t wrong. Jack had caused so much chaos, his parents had held his trust fund hostage until he came back to England. I shook my head, not wanting to relive those memories. “Yeah I definitely don’t want to go alone to this with Jack being there. And there’s no way Frank is getting married without…” Joe was shaking his head before I could finish my question.

But then he gave me a quizzical look. “Aren’t you dating someone, L.J.? For a couple of months now? Can’t you just invite him? What’s his name again?”


	4. Chapter 4

### Chapter 4

#### Claire

I blanked for a moment, not a clue what Joe meant. Then I realized I WAS dating a guy, and actually had dinner plans with him this evening. “Oh, god, Matthew,” I put my head in my hands. “I completely forgot about him.”

Joe laughed at my expression, setting down the piece of bread and wiping tears from his eyes. “Are you serious? You forgot about a man?”

I sighed and took a long drink of water. “I keep meaning to end things with him. I was lonely, wanted someone to go out with occasionally. But he’s just… boring,” I groaned. “I can’t bring him to the wedding. Jesus H, Joe, I forgot I had dinner plans with this man tongiht,” I whisper at him, scandalized, as he laughed.

We stopped chatting for a moment as the waitress brought over our lunches. I added some pepper flakes to mine. We sat in silence for a few minutes, eating. Joe put his fork down for a second and looked at me seriously.

“Claire.” Joe rarely used my actual name, unless it is something incredibly serious. I looked up from my slice of pizza, a bit confused. “I’ve seen the paper work on your desk. I know there is a fellowship out there near your uncle that you’ve been considering. Are you going to try to get an interview while out there?”

Joe and I never talk about the possibility of me returning back to England. And part of me couldn’t imagine working in medicine without him by my side. But I also knew I couldn’t lie to him about what I was considering, even if it meant putting a clock on our time together. “I don’t know. That’s a lie. I am considering it, but I don’t know if I would want it. I miss my uncle, and it would be good to spend some time in England. But I’ve only practiced here, and Boston has been more of a home for me than England ever was.”

He nodded silently, stabbing a piece of noodle and cheese. Then he looked up at me with a smile. “You should go for it. It is an amazing program, and you would do wonders in it. And then you can come back and teach me everything you learn.” I laughed a bit at that.

“Okay, enough sentimental talk. Tell me about the surgery yesterday.” Joe laughed and launched right into the surgery, fully detailed. We both ate and laughed as we discussed various surgeries we had talked about numerous times, neither one of us shying away from our food or the gory details.

A few hours later I was settled on our apartment’s porch, my feet in fluffy house shoes and propped up on the plastic table. I had a few binders out with medical journal printouts strewn all over the place, things I should be studying, but instead I was staring out into space. Our porch was in the perfect spot. It gets enough sunlight, but not direct enough that we would burn up sitting outside.

My phone jarred me out of whatever daydream I was in. I looked down at the time, realizing it was my uncle calling. I hastily picked up and shouted “Uncle Lamb!” at the screen.

“Hello, hello deary.”

“Oh you…you have the camera backwards. Hit the button…” I laughed trying to direct him to turn the camera around.

“Ah yes. I am starting to understand these phones. Now I can see you too. All is well?”

“All is. And you?”

“Everything here is dry. I miss the rain. Who ever thinks that?” he took a long pull from his cigarette. “So you don’t usually need to talk outside of our weekly scheduled chat. Everything okay?”

“Oh yes, of course! Did I worry you?” He made a face to imply that I hadn’t, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “No, actually, Geillis and I got invited to a wedding in a few months. In June, actually. And well, it’s between her classes and my rotations… well, we were wondering if you had some time to host a few uni girls for a month or so.”

“Oh my dear, that sounds lovely!” He leaned over the phone, giving me a close up of his shirt for a second, then came back with his black binder. “What dates are you thinking? I am traveling a bit at the beginning of the month.”

“Um, maybe the 9th? Sometime that week. This was pretty much put into motion last night, but checking to see if you and your place is available was priority one.”

“Everything is available even if I am not here. You know that. Who’s wedding is it?”

“You know I would be terribly sad to come home and not see you. Even if I would throw a party every night in your flat.” I sigh and play with my ear before responding. “It is Frank’s wedding.”

I see my uncle’s face droop slightly, and my heart drops with it. I knew he loved Frank, but I really had hoped he had stopped holding out hope we would get back together. He was the one to introduce us, after all. I shake that thought out of my head for now and decide to ignore his reaction to the news.

“Anyways, Geillis and I were both invited and want to remind ourselves why we ran away from home. I’ll send you flight information when I have some?”

“Sounds great. I’ll try to remember to look at my email later this week.” He looked at someone off screen and held up a finger. “Claire, my dinner date is here. I’ll call you on Sunday, okay?” He waved and hung up, leaving me smiling. Dinner date. It was good to see my uncle getting back out there. Perhaps I had missed all the signs of him dating while I was growing up.

I went back to laying around my porch after opening a bottle of wine. I peered through some articles on new medications geared towards upper respiratory diseases and the side effects, but my heart wasn’t into it like it normally was. I was focused on Frank and my time with him.

Had I messed up? Had I been wrong to end it? Usually when I get like this, Geillis is here to help me out of it. But she was working late at a protest on campus - I vaguely remembered I was to keep an eye out in order to bail her out. And I didn’t need her to remind me that I was looking at everything through rosy colored glasses.

I pulled up my Facebook up and scroll through it for the first time in weeks. Are there any guys on here I can talk into going to the wedding with me? Realistically… no. I had maybe 150 friends, and talk to next to none of them that lived in the UK. Frustrated, I switch to text messaging and pour another glass of wine. I was going to need to find some food - and maybe get inside as the sun had almost gone down entirely and I was getting chilly.

I NEED A DATE TO THIS WEDDING. HEEEEEEELP. X

I shoot off a text to both Joe and Geillis as I scoop up all of my mess and drop it on the coffee table to sort out. I kick off my fluffy slipper and pull my hair back, throwing on my threadbare university hoodie. Perfect comfort for an evening in. I put my laptop on the couch and clean up the living room a bit. I was fluffing some pillows when my phone chirped.

JOE  
MY WIFE SAYS IF YOU CARRY THE BABY I CAN GO.

I laugh and type back.

CLAIRE  
HAVE TO PASS. ANY OTHER IDEAS? X

JOE  
SHE SAYS TO CHECK OUT THIS WEBSITE.

GEILLIS  
COME DOWN TO THE PROTEST AND CHAT SOME GUYS UP. X

CLAIRE  
PASS ON THE PROTEST. HIT ME UP WITH THIS WEBSITE. X

Joe sends over the link, and I make a mental note to buy them even more baby stuff. Not that I hadn’t spent too much money already - I just loved baby shoes. I open it up and laugh. It’s a matching service for essentially faux partners from the looks of it. Sure, it isn’t advertised that way - “a matching service so you don’t have to answer those awkward questions as to why you are single!” or some asinine concept. I love it.

CLAIRE  
I OWE YOU BOTH A POST-BABY BEER. X

I create a profile and pick the free option, while also claiming that I’m already in the UK for obvious reasons. A screen filled with questions popped up. I groaned slightly - this is going to feel like a job interview and a bad first date rolled into one.

“ _Who am I?_ ” That one is easy. Claire, a Brit living in American studying medicine.

“ _What am I looking for_?” Maybe a little less easy. “I need a date for a wedding in June” seems too desperate to type. “In need of someone to provide moral support during a few events over the summer.” There, that feels a little less…desperate.

“ _Six things I could never do without_ ” Strong Earl Grey tea, penicillin, a map, puppies, the chips at the diner around from my flat, and running shoes.

“ _What do you do to keep sane?_ ” Hobbies? Should I make up some hobbies? I took a drink from my wine glass, contemplating what hobbies I could even fake. And was it worth it, for someone I am not technically dating? Frank would realize he’s lying if -

I jolt up as someone knocks loudly on my front door. Had I actually ordered sushi, or had I just …thought it into existence? I quickly get up and move to the door and peak through the peephole. It took me a moment to register that Matthew was standing on my doorstep, but why?

I opened the door and plaster a smile on my face. “Matthew, love! To what do I owe this pleasure?” He is always Matthew and never Matt by his own admission. Nicknames are for children, and top lawyers are not children.

“Claire!” I see his smile drop as he looks at what I’m wearing. “You aren’t dressed?”

“Dressed?” I lean on the door and look at him in confusion. “Dressed for…our dinner date! Tonight! Oh Matthew, I’m sorry it has been a whirlwind of a day. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be changed. Here, come on in.” I move out of the door frame to let him in.

He doesn’t take the offer though. Instead he runs his hand through his hair and rocks on his shoes. “Listen, Claire. This is the fourth date in a row that you’ve had a ‘whirlwind of a day.’ I think it may be time to call it quits before this gets too embarrassing.”

“What oh no I just-”

“Look, I’ve dated plenty of smart, successful women. You aren’t in to me, and that is okay. But I have no interest in being your placeholder.”

I sigh and take his hand. “I am so sorry I made you feel that way. I am awful. You deserve so much better, and I am so sorry.”

He leaned in and kisses my forehead, then walks away. I closed the door and groaned. I had no feelings for him, and overall this is something that needed to happen, I know. What a weird day. I definitely needed sushi…and to change to whiskey. And to scour through boys on a dating site.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this was worth the wait! I promise we are getting close to some Claire/Jamie communication!!


End file.
